To the Last Syllable
by Semper Vino Veritas
Summary: Harry Potter made a desperate bid to save the people he loves most. Now, an old enemy looms, the dead are walking and Harry must find a way to save not one world, but two.
1. Chapter 1

**Beginnings**

There are moments in life that define us, moments wherein a single choice becomes woven into the fabric of our very being. A solitary pause in causality, when one shift in the course of life reverberates far beyond our conscious understanding.

This was not one of those moments.

Or so Harry told himself. Indeed, he did not believe in all that heavy-hearted nonsense. And as he stood over the bloodied and trembling figure of his enemy, wand in hand, curse on the tip of his tongue, Harry purposefully chose not to see this as a turning point.

After all, what else could a man do in the face of such persistent evil?

Much later, when he was rinsing the blood from his hands, Harry would reflect that calculated death had not been as difficult to deliver as he had previously supposed. The crimson rivulets streamed down his forearms as he held them, palms up, beneath the steaming tap. Hot water seared his skin but Harry had no eyes for anything other than the deep red pooling around the drain.

Certainly he had killed before. It was a war, after all, and people in wars die. Harry had seen more people die than he could recount. Personally he'd killed several people in self defense or in the defense of someone else. In those moments he had not paused to consider the moral ramifications of his actions. He simply did what needed to be done and then moved on to the next target, the next fight, the next day. Those were clean kills, quick and necessary. Those kills did not plague his thoughts. Harry did not wake from the nightmares of their glass eyes as he did from the memories of his fallen loved ones. He had the comforting certainty of righteousness to shroud his conscience.

Harry felt, now, that his clarity had suddenly become rather foggy.

How enjoyable it had been to gouge ribbons of flesh. How elated he had been to sever tendon from bone. How easy it had it been to part immortal soul from its mortal host.

Bellatrix Lestrange was dead.

Harry had left her mutilated corpse in the field where the few remnants of the resistance had been camped for the past few days. For all her madness and it turned out Bellatrix had been right at least once; one truly did need to mean unforgivable curses to cast them.

He had no clear memory of leaving the field, simply laughing uncontrollably in a blur of movement as a woman screamed his name, clasped his hand and the pair spun out of existence.

Now Sirius Black was avenged. The thought brought a smile to his lips.

"Harry." Ginny's voice was timid, soft. Her eyes were not focused on him, but on a point slightly above his reflection.

Slowly he shifted his focus from wet swirls of red to the singed auburn hair in the mirror. Standing at the threshold of the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe for support, Ginny looked gaunt. To see her now, one would think the last time she had eaten or slept well was out of remembrance. Which, Harry considered, it was. The washroom was silent.

"Is any of that your blood?" Ginny's voice was devoid of emotion.

"Not much. Some of it was hers." Harry paused, throat tightening. "I think, I think most of it was Victoria's."

Ginny nodded, eyes wide and unseeing. Harry took the chance to peer into them. He supposed their deadened look was well reflected in his own. Both the Potter's had witnessed more than their fair share of loss but the two years since their marriage had been particularly hard. Unbidden, scenes from the day Harry's life had truly begun to spin out of control arose in front of his eyes.

Spells were flying everywhere. Bolts of color streaked past them as most of the Weasley family battled for their lives. Suddenly there was a woosh of heat and then Harry heard the shriek.

Molly was burning to death.

She had managed to pull an unconscious Percy inside when the Death Eaters had unleashed Fiendfyre directly through the front door. There was simply no way to avoid it. Her wailing had quickly been cut off.

Then Charlie was bellowing for the rest of their family to retreat. Harry struggling to hold a thrashing Ron from leaping into the burning house, Hermione deflecting spells to cover their backs. The flames were spiraling higher and higher, licking closer to Ginny's body, bleeding out a few feet from where Fred was fiercely dueling with two Death Eaters. Arthur had screamed, loosing all sense, and charged at the cloaked figures brandishing his wand on high. He'd been hit with a killing curse within seconds. It was the sight of his body crumpling to the ground that gave Harry the strength to push Ron to Hermione and with a shout he dove for Ginny's body. With one hand on her arm and one of Fred's leg he apparated them both away. It was only once they had regrouped at Shell Cottage that Harry realized George too was dead. He'd been cleanly cut down in battle, taking a killing curse meant for Charlie.

The burning of the Burrow had been a particularly painful shock, but that was years ago now. The other deaths hurt Harry of course, but nothing could compare to the sound of the woman he'd come to think of as a mother burning alive. He was able to go on, to pass off the rest of the fallen as a tragic consequence of an unnecessary war. Harry was reluctant to linger too long on any one person's demise after that day; he felt he grieved the dead well enough by continuing to fight.

It seemed, however, that cradling his niece Victoria as her life slowly slipped away had caused Harry to reach a new milestone. It was the first time he had tortured someone to death. It was the first time he'd enjoyed killing.

Of course, he could have stopped. Bellatrix was clearly beaten. Most likely she would have died from the wounds he'd inflicted during their duel and then Harry could have washed his hands of it. Perhaps she might have even suffered longer had he simply left her. But Harry couldn't take the chance that that abomination would recover, would live to hurt another innocent child as she had hurt Victoria. So as he stood above her, Harry had had the feeling of righteous clarity he'd come to rely on. He had known, without a doubt, that killing Bellatrix Lestrange was the right thing to do.

And so he had executed her. Not quickly. Certainly not mercifully. Mercy was a luxury she had not afforded her victims and Harry could not bring himself to accord it to her. Still, Bellatrix's death was fairly swift. Under Harry's crucio she had died within minutes.

He had decided he was not going to think about the implications of that particular fact. Or about how wonderfully in control he had felt as she twitched and bled on the ground before his feet. These days Harry so rarely felt power over anything.

Indeed, Bellatrix Lestrange had taken many things from many people over the years. Much of what she had stripped from her victims had been their power so, Harry figured, it was high time she gave some back. As he stood in the loo, caked in the drying blood of both the innocent and the pure blooded, staring at a wife he wasn't sure he knew how to speak to anymore, Harry decided this was one death for which he wouldn't spare another thought.

That bitch was dead and he was not. Victoria was dead but Ginny was not.

Ginny.

He turned sharply and strode across the small room, pulling her firmly into an embrace. Neither the husband nor the wife made a sound or shed a tear as they clutched one another. There would be time to better mourn later. Now there were plans to be made, battles to be fought, a war to be won. It was time to move.

In any case, Harry _definitely_ did not think as they left the loo, murderer was a word for which he no longer had a use.


	2. Chapter 2

In a very different place, in a very different time, a very different Harry Potter was frowning down at his timetable. Where he was supposed to have Divination with Ron and Neville, he'd somehow wound up in Ancient Runes. He'd been so hungry he hadn't spared the schedule a glance and by now most of the other students were headed toward their first classes. Harry spotted Professor McGonagall on her way out of the Great Hall.

"Professor, excuse me, Professor." Harry nearly tripped over his own feet as he rushed to catch up with his head of house.

"Er, sorry professor, but there's been a mistake," Harry thrust his timetable out. "I'm not supposed to be in Ancient Runes."

"Ah yes, Potter." The professor sniffed and adjusted her spectacles, "You'll have to speak to the headmaster if you wish a change in schedule. I do believe, however, it was altered at your mother's request."

"But that doesn't make any sense Professor. I can't start a subject in my seventh year. It isn't as though I could ever pass a NEWT Ancient Runes, is it?"

McGonagall peered rather severely at the boy over her spectacles. "As I said Mr. Potter, you really must take the matter up with the headmaster and your mother. Now, if you insist on arguing with me I do believe you'll be late for advanced potions."

Harry grimaced, quickly stuffing his timetable back into his bag and hurried out of the hall. Professor Potter was not one to be kept waiting.

Though Harry had resolved to speak to his mum about the unfair change in schedule after potions, he'd been too caught up mocking Draco Malfoy with Ron and Neville to remember. The Slytherin had practically fled from the dungeons rather than face the Griffyndors. Triumphant laughter followed his retreating form as the three boys headed back toward the common room for a free period.

"And did you see his face after his cauldron exploded? He was about to cry!" Ron was nearly doubled over as he leaned on Harry.

"The prat must have jumped ten feet!" Neville was wiping tears out of his eyes, "Can't wait until Defense Against the Dark Arts! Ten gallons says he'll won't be able to get a single spell off, even with Snape's help." The trio devolved into a fit of laughter as they made their way down the corridor.

The three boys had been fast friends since childhood, all delighting in their Griffyndor ties. Harry had done his best to initiate the shyer Neville and the less-than-subtle Ron in the glorious tradition of Marauder pranking. Weasley was happy to lend the expertise of his twin brothers to their pranks. For his part, Neville had added an organic touch to the mix; Bouncing Bulbs and even Mimbulus Mimbletonia had been known to make contact with unsuspecting Slytherins. By the end of their first year, the trio were known throughout Hogwarts. By the end of their fourth year they had officially been inducted into Filch's List of Famous Idiots, as the caretaker liked to call them.

The trio were confident they would leave their beloved school as legends.

"There is something particularly detestable about watching your eldest son breeze through my classroom with such ease." Severus Snape smirked at his oldest friend as he sat down for lunch.

"Oh, I don't know." Lily Potter answered airily as she buttered a piece of bread, "He seems to keep you on your toes at least. Merlin knows you need it. Correct me if I'm wrong but did you, or did you not, need the help of a certain potions mistress to treat that mysterious outbreak of hellebore punch contamination in your common room last night."

Severus flashed her a good-natured smirk as he reached for his goblet. His eyes were firmly planted on the boy in question, who was even now cracking some ill-humored joke, if the dimwitted Weasley boy guffawing with his food-filled mouth was any indication, Snape thought.

"Well, I doubt I'll be able to bring him to proper justice, even if he does deserve it." Severus sighed. "But I want you to know I've indicated to the headmaster it would be my greatest pleasure to personally oversee the large number of detentions Harry will surly garner."

Lily laughed. "Of course Sev. But seriously, how's Sylvia shaping up?"

Severus gave his old friend a genuine smile. "She's coming along better than expected. I should think she'll do quite well in her Defense OWL."

"That's a relief. If she had half the talent for Defense she has for Herbology I'd be looking at another Auror in the family." Lily eyes wandered to her daughter at the Hufflepuff table.

"James would be ever so pleased, I'm sure." Severus commented dryly.

Lily snickered. Her husband and her best mate had never exactly got on. Their relationship had settled over the years, eventually falling into a pattern of mutual dislike, with only the tinniest hint of open hostility. Well, Lily reflected, perhaps more than a tiny bit of open hostility.

The potions mistress turned her attention to her notes. "I've got third years the second period this afternoon. I was thinking about mixing it up a bit. Think I should start them on the Shrinking Solution? It's not too dull, I hope?"

"I'm sure it will be fine. In fact, as they're with me next, perhaps I should make them practice Engorgio on one another. I could leave a few for you to fix? It would certainly provide more motivation to brew correctly."

This time Lily outright laughed. "I think I can manage to get the kids excited without threats of oversized body parts. But thank you for your concern."

"Anytime." Severus deadpanned as he sipped his tea. "Let no one doubt the depth of my commitment to educating our nation's most promising young minds."

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" The professors' conversation was cut off by a sudden scream from the Gryffindor table. A rather bushy head of hair had not only been bewitched into standing up stick straight but had suddenly become bright purple.

"One would think the Granger girl would have learned to get along with her housemates after all this time." Snape cooly noted as Lily rose and began to make her way to the table. "But I suppose it's only natural. You lot always were a hard-headed bunch."

Lily's green eyes flashed back at him. "Bugger off Sev."

Severus Snape allowed himself a small smirk as he raised his teacup. It was shaping up to be another exhausting year.


	3. Chapter 3

The moon hung heavy in the night sky as Ginny slunk through the shadows, her lithe body hugging the stone walls. The silencing charm she had cast on her feet ensured no rustling cloak would give her away. Ginny fleetingly thought it was eerie, not that she couldn't hear the scrape of boots on cobblestone, but that the absence of sound, _the silence_, had become such a constant companion.

Edinburgh Castle loomed high above as Ginny slipped through an archway and ascended the narrow stone staircase. Despite the moon's brightness the stairway seemed to grow darker and darker, eventually slipping into an unnatural blackness.

At the top of the stair she paused, fighting the strong repelling charms, and knocked rhythmically. After a pause she rapped again and waited for an answering tap.

"Out of the night that covers me." Ginny strained to hear the muffled voice.

"Black as the pit from pole to pole." She replied.

"I thank whatever Gods may be." Came the answer.

"For my unconquerable soul." A sliver of light shone on her face as the door quickly opened and Ginny stepped inside.

An old man, wizened and hunched settled himself back on a stool near the door. He nodded over the single candle, shrugging toward the inner door.

"They're in the red room."

Ginny nodded and pulled her cloak off as she swept forward.

Inside she found Harry, Hermione and Luna working in silence. Luna was stooped over a battered cauldron muttering to herself. Ginny could see her blond hair had become plastered to the girl's scalp from the fumes. Whenever a strand would break away from her head Luna would sweep it firmly back. She did not look up at Ginny's entrance, though the youngest Weasley placed a small parcel of ingredients on the table next to her.

Hermione and Harry were crouched above the desk. The pair were pouring over an exceptionally old tome, using their wands to turn the ancient pages.

"No, no, this is definitely the character for rend. I'm sure of it." Harry's voice was fevered. It struck Ginny with a sort of wild hope, so rarely was he excited about anything these days.

"And I'm telling you, the translation key is imprecise." Hermione leaned back and rubbed her eyes. "I'm not willing to steak everything on what may or may not be a door we can or can't reopen."

Harry had turned away from the book now, his focus solely on Hermione. "How can you honestly say that? Yes it's a risk, but it doesn't make any sense for us to continue on like this. You know as well as I do that it's only a matter of time before we're found out. And then what?"

A deep silence lingered after Harry's passionate declaration. Hermione seemed at a loss for words, her eyes glued to her old friend's determined face.

"If we're going to die we should at least go down fighting." Now all three sets of eyes were on the sole remaining Ravenclaw in their group.

"Luna, be reasonable," Hermione started, "This can't be our only choice. There's got to be another way."

"We've been looking for months. If you of all people haven't found another way by now. . . then this is it." Ginny spoke solemnly and paused to take a deep breath. "If we don't act soon then it will be too late for us to do anything at all."

The four were quiet then; Luna's bubbling cauldron had turned a deep ruby.

"Fine," Hermione whispered. "I. . . I know we're out of options. I'll make it work somehow. I always do manage."

"It'll be a damn good last stand." Harry was definite. "And besides," he clapped Hermione on the shoulder, "there is actually a chance we could come out of it on top." He grinned, "Lord Snakeface won't know what hit him."

All three of the girls cracked smiles as Ginny moved to stand by him.

"Let's do it as soon as possible." Harry said after a moment.

Hermione's wand traced along a line of the text. "Looks like from here it's just a matter of assembling the runes correctly and waiting for the next full moon."

"Right then," Harry said, "If that's decided I'm calling it a night. Are you coming Gin?"

And as the pair swept from the red room, neither Luna nor Hermione registered the slight hint of madness in Ginny's answering laughter.


	4. Chapter 4

4.

James Potter thought he just might curse someone.

Well, he reflected, not some random Adam, but _Sirius_, now there was a satisfying perspective target. And not any old curse, either. James was sure no Wizengamot in history would convict him of the use the Imperius on his best mate. It would even be for a good cause, James thought, forcing the errant Auror to turn up to work on time for once in his bloody life. The guilty party was, at that very moment, plunking down at his desk two hours late.

"Where were you?" James hissed, covering his voice with the shuffle of paperwork.

Sirius shot him an easy grin. He looked a mite bashful. "Well, it's not every night one of the Weird Sisters happens to be at your local pub, is it? Can't exactly pass up a chance like that."

James' eyebrows shot up. "Sirius, mate, hate to break it to you, but aren't they all blokes in that group?"

"New drummer." Sirius gave James a full grin. "Definitely not a bloke, with fantastic rhythm."

James rolled his eyes and shoved a pile of paperwork across this desk and onto the offending Auror's. "That's what I saved for you, for making your partner cover for you. Again."

Sirius merely shrugged and offered James his standard, "Thanks," smile. He withdrew a quill and nibbled on the end, staining his lip. James snorted at the sight. Sirius hadn't been brought up to be anything other than a perfect pureblooded heir, but he'd gone out of his way to adopt traits his parents considered ,"Mudblooded." It had been years since they'd done their son a favor and shoved off to the great beyond, but by then Sirius had become unconsciously accustomed to his new habits. His mix of pureblooded mannerisms and adopted "common" traits could be quite hilarious at times.

"How'd Lily say the new term was shaping up?" Sirius asked.

"Well enough. She reckons Syl is going hard at defense. Snape says she should pass her OWL. Harry, though. . . well I tried to tell her that boys will be boys." James shared a smile with Sirius, remembering their own trouble making years.

A parchment airplane wized by James' head and landed on his desk. Sirius watched, as he unfurled it and read, James' face turn darker and darker. James scowled and passed it off into Sirius waiting hands.

"Truthfully, I'm just glad Lils and the kids are back at school. Sometimes it seems like it just keeps getting worse out there no matter what we do."

Sirius shook his head. "Can't get to thinking like that too much, mate. It's not good for anyone." He balled up the parchment and threw it in the bin. "Besides, just because Avery got off this time doesn't mean we won't catch him again. He's sloppy."

James sighed. "I know, I know. It's just that. . . sometimes it seems like this stalemate goes on forever. And then. . . look, none of us can pretend the attacks haven't stepped up over the summer." He paused, dropping his voice. "We're loosing this war Sirius. It may only be in inches, but we're loosing. The Ministry hasn't made a major bust in six years. And the elections. . . every day we don't do something about it people are quietly dying. Something _must_ change."

"You're barking to the choir mate." Sirius said.

"I think it's, 'Preaching to the choir.' Or so Lily tells me." James replied.

Sirius waved his hand. "Doesn't matter. Look, we both know what's happening. But we can't do more than what we do now. And I say we pay our newly freed Mr. Avery a visit." He grinned wickedly.

James smiled. Sirius usually knew the right thing to say, but if not, he almost always came close.

"Alright," James said. "To Edinburgh it is."

XXXXX

Harry was propped up on his side, intently examining the single breast that had slipped from beneath the covers. Ginny looked radiant, illuminated in the early morning sun from the only window in their small room. She maintained the scar that ran from her forehead, across her left cheek and down her neck gave her a distinguished air. Harry didn't notice it anymore. That scar was part of her now, just like all the others. It was a reminder of their hardness.

But the swell of her body, the sweetness of her kisses, the upturn of her nose, even the extensive patchwork of scars lining the rest of her body, these were also a reminder of a different sort. When Harry looked at his wife he saw what was still good in the world, why he continued on. After a great deal of careful consideration in the morning light, Harry leaned over and took Ginny's nipple into his mouth, sucking tenderly.

She stirred. "And a good morning to you too."

"Can you believe it Gin?" Harry whispered, "Today's the day. Everything is going to be different!"

Ginny laughed and pressed his head back to her breast, "Well then we don't have much time. Get to work Mr. Potter."

Harry smirked back up at his wife, his hand trailing down her stomach. "As always, Mrs. Potter, your wish is my command."

XXXXX

The largest moon of the year just happened to fall on the summer solstice.

Hermione had been cautiously pleased that their plans coincided with both the supermoon, the largest and therefore most powerful moon of the year, and the summer solstice, a day of great magical power in and of itself.

It was an unusually advantageous happening. In Hermione's experience, fate did not forgive any slight without taking something in return. And what they were about to attempt was the largest circumvention of the natural order Hermione could imagine. But, she reasoned as the four had silently marched up the hill at sunset, surly they had poured enough of their humanity into the ethos, again and again paid the price to simply survive, to buy them this one favor. Surly, fate could look the other way, just this once.

They reached the pinnacle of Arthur's Seat just as the sun set. Ginny and Harry had immediately began to cast the necessary privacy wards and charms as Luna carefully placed her cauldron at the right coordinates. A prod with her wand and a small fire sprang from beneath the deep purple concoction.

Hermione had withdrawn the dusty tome from within her robes. She attempted to maneuver it to rest on her left arm as she angled her wand toward the ground. Slowly, her wand crept in tightly controlled motions as the witch began to carve precise runes into the rock around them.

She worked with diligence. By the time Hermione was finished sweat had soaked her brow and begun to trickle down the small of her back. The book disappeared into the folds of her tattered robes once again. Hermione drew her hair back, shoulder length now. She was glad it had once again grown long enough to braid.

The four arranged themselves into a circle midway between the closest arc of runes and the cauldron. It was bright as day beneath the gleaming moon. Their cloaks fluttered as warm summer wind wafted over the hill. They were silent.

Harry looked around then, deeply into the eyes of each woman. His gaze seemed to steel them; they stood taller and fixed their faces into a mirrored look of determination. After a moment of pause, Hermione began to chant in Aramaic.

Her voice was a harsh whisper. She began to sway, to rock, as the force of the magic she channeled began to gather. Her voice grew louder. Now Luna joined in, then Ginny and finally Harry. Once all four had begun to shake Ginny withdrew a curved dagger. Its silver hilt glinted as the moonlight seemed to dance across its blade to the rhythm of their chanting. Ginny's eyes darkened, the pupils stretching, covering the whites until her eyes were fathomless pits.

And now the air was thick, laden with magic.

Ginny slashed the dagger into her left arm. She stabbed deeply and drug the blade down from the crook of her elbow to her wrist. A wave of crimson ran down her arm. Ginny moved quickly to tilt the flowing blood into the cauldron. It hissed and yellow sparks arced over them.

Luna seized the blade before it slipped from Luna's weakening grasp. She moved her robes aside, parting them in the front. Once her eyes became engulfed in the blackness she too sliced into flesh. Luna severed the artery in her left leg and was rewarded with a thick flow of red. She pooled it both on the dagger and in her hand before limping forward and depositing her blood. Green sparks shone from the potion.

It was Hermione's turn. Her entire body thrummed, but it was with steady hands she gripped the dagger. And it was without hesitation she slashed under her left ear. Hermione faltered, staggering toward the cauldron before righting herself and tipping the flowing blood into the mixture. Blue sparks erupted from within and she crumpled to the ground.

Now Harry was the only one left, the only one chanting. He began to rise, hovering over the stained ground, both arms extended slightly as white sprites of lightening shot from his body. Harry's eyes were pools of endless black as he wordlessly summoned the dagger form Hermione's still form. The dagger sprung to his waiting palm and without a second glance at his fallen friends Harry James Potter drove the curved blade deep into his heart. Crimson sprayed forward, drenching the potion. It exploded the moment his blood touched the liquid and Harry screamed as he had never screamed before.

Across the city, Lucius Malfoy dropped the corpse of an old man in a dark red room as the sound of an inhuman wail blasted across the night. He rushed outside behind the other Death Eaters, drawn to a growing light sweeping across the city. Lucius could only gape as a great wave of white engulfed them all.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

It was ages before the common room cleared out. Harry kept an iron gasp on his patience as Colin Creevy rechecked the same potions essay for the _fourth_ time. Now that the little bugger had finally headed to bed, Harry reckoned it was time to act.

"I thought he'd never leave," Harry grumbled.

"We really will have to tell your mum to lend him a hand with extra lessons," Ron joked.

Harry smirked back at his friend. The three had devised the perfect plan for the Slytherins. It involved a bit of luck, a fair amount of stealth and quite a number of crushed Alihotsy leaves, which Neville had been able to provide from his parents' garden. Yes indeed, while that prat Draco might not yet have gotten a chance to pay Harry back for his little stunt in Potions, it would only be a matter of time. Better to strike first, Harry had told his friends, than wait for a reprisal. Ron and Neville had quickly agreed.

The three packed up their school work and exchanged grins. The trio rose, fully intending to leave the common room.

Neville wasn't nervous. He'd gotten over that particular feeling years ago. While he knew he'd be just as happy playing Exploding Snap, sneaking around the castle at night _was_ an adventure. If Neville were honest with himself, he knew that his two best mates' pranking had grown on him.

Ron smiled back at Neville, excitement clear on his face. There were few pleasures in life Ron enjoyed so throughly as messing with the Slytherins.

And then it happened. Neville was startled from his thoughts when he noticed a great white light quickly spreading across the common room. It moved too quickly to see the source, and before he knew it the light had come and gone in what seemed like the blink of an eye. He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear them of the dots now swimming across his vision.

When Neville lowered his hands, he was alone.

XXXXX

Across the castle Albus Dumbledore was enjoying a rather good cup of tea in the solitude of his office.

The headmaster firmly believed in the importance of self reflection, of allotting time to simply gather ones thoughts. Another term had just begun; his pupils and staff alike were settling in just fine. There was less excitement to be had now that the Weasley twins had left them after completing their second round of seventh year courses. It truly wouldn't be the same without their pranking antics, though Albus suspected the mischievous Griffyndor trio would be taking up that particular torch.

But it was terribly late, or rather terribly early, and Albus had been up for several hours worrying about things far beyond the hallowed halls of his beloved school.

Voldemort was on the move.

Albus was no fool. He knew Tom was lying low for a reason. From what Kingsley had reported, Death Eater infiltration was creeping closer and closer to the minister, unseen by the public. Severus had likewise confirmed the Dark Lord was making plans to move beyond simply murdering in secret. All the signs were pointing to a true crisis. Over the past thirty years Dumbledore had been able to thwart Riddle's various bids for a total political takeover, but he had come to realize it was only a matter of time before Wizarding Britain voted in one of Tom's puppets. Once the Ministry of Magic fell into Tom's twisted hands it was only a matter of time before open war was upon them.

It was a heavy burden at times, being responsible for the safety and rights of the Wizarding world. Albus sighed. "A savior indeed," he murmured to himself. For the first time in several years the headmaster's thoughts wandered to the prophecy. He had been so certain Sybil's prediction was truthful. It had filled him with a strange sort of dreaded hope. Albus wished desperately for a way to stop Tom's inescapable rise. At the same time, however, he was in the unique situation to appreciate that no one could truly understand the burden being a real threat to a dark lord placed upon one's shoulders. No one person should have to carry that terrible burden. In any event, the prophecy had come to nothing. It had been essentially forgotten by everyone but Albus himself.

The headmaster's musings were interrupted by his guardian gargoyle's warning chime. "Enter," he called. Severus Snape had already begun to slip inside. His steps were too sure, as though he was expending a tremendous amount of effort to walk normally. Albus could see the telltale signs his friend had been subject to Tom's company.

Severus lowered himself into the chair opposite Albus's desk. His hands were shaking. When Severus realized the headmaster was looking at them he quickly shoved his fists into the folds of his robe. There was a moment of silence and Severus was glad for the opportunity to collect himself. Not that he would ever thank the old man.

"Something to drink? Strong, perhaps?" Albus opened.

Severus shook his head. "I will be fine. It was not I that was subject to his tender mercies."

Albus knew it was useless to offer condolences. His old friend had little use for what he saw as platitudes. He blazed on. "You are late. He asked you to stay after?"

"Yes," Snape said. "It was for a trifling matter." At Albus' silence he continued, "He inquired about your health. The Dark Lord is apparently hoping you'll drop dead of old age sooner rather than later."

Albus smiled. "It would be lovely to die a natural death, wouldn't it? I can think of few finer ways for one to die."

Severus snorted. "If I didn't know better I would say he seemed rather. . . cheerful. Nothing else seemed amiss beyond his mood. I don't doubt he's closing in on whatever it is he's planning, but even Lucius was unusually tight lipped tonight."

"Is his trust in you waining?" Albus asked.

"No. If he suspected, the Dark Lord would not hesitate to kill me, even at the expense of the misinformation he believes me to feed you."

"Well then we will simply have to keep our ears open more attentively than usual." Albus said. "I don't suppose you have-"

Both men started at the red light that flashed and the high pitched whine that followed.

With a quick glance at Severus, Albus stood and swept toward the door. He closed his eyes briefly at the door. "The Astronomy Tower," he said and Severus nodded. The intruder alarm was but one of Hogwarts' methods of contacting the headmaster. The pair raced down the circular staircase and quickly headed for the tallest of all the castle's towers.

XXXXX

Neville was running, sprinting down the corridor toward the headmaster's office. It hadn't occurred to him to contact his head of house. When the two boys he cared most about had disappeared in the blink of an eye Neville had panicked and sought the most powerful wizard he could think of to help.

When he saw both Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape sprinting down another corridor he turned to follow them without thought. So consumed was Neville with thoughts of his friends, he didn't bother to question his notion that the two teachers were headed to find them.

The sight at the top of the Astronomy Tower stopped all both professors in their tracks. Severus was frozen in silence. There, before him, were the bodies of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. But they were unlike the boys Severus had seen in his defense class earlier that very day.

Potter was lying closer to them. He was deathly pale, his robe parted to reveal a naked torso. Most worryingly, he was drenched in blood. But as serious injured as Lily's son appeared, Ron Weasley was infinitely worse. The boy's clearly broken legs were bent at gut wrenching angles. He too was covered in blood, but it only some of it seemed fresh. It was caked on his naked chest, covered in bruises, cuts, burns, sores and human excrement. The smell was horrendous. Severus could see there were no nails on his left hand. Upon closer inspection Weasley seemed to be missing an ear. And there was a great scar that ran the width of his neck. It was cherry red, as though it had just been healed.

A gasp sounded out behind them, and Albus swiftly moved forward toward the bodies on the floor while Severus turned around to see a pale, shaking Neville.

"Go, wake Madam Pomfrey. Tell her two gravely injured boys will be there shortly." After a beat in which Neville did not move, Severus raised his voice and snarled, "Longbottom! Now!"

Neville wrenched his eyes away from the motionless forms and turned, fleeing from the ghastly scene behind him. Severus watched him go and swiftly moved toward Albus, who was bent over Potter.

"It appears as though he's been stabbed in the heart," Albus said. "You have blood replenisher with you?" Severus nodded, he never attended a Death Eater meeting without an array of potions. "Good," Albus said. "Please spell it into his stomach." The headmaster turned toward Weasley and Snape knelt down to administer the potion.

Once the blood replenisher was spelled into Potter's stomach, Snape scourgified some of the blood from the boy's chest. Snape's eyes narrowed. Potter had a scar on his chest. As Albus said, it looked as if he had been stabbed in the heart. But like Weasley's, the flesh was bright red, as though it had been recently healed.

Severus glanced over his shoulder. Albus was continuing to stabilize Weasley so he turned back to Potter. Snape looked at his face. This boy appeared older than 17. He had numerous cuts and quite a few small scars on his neck and upper torso. Severus' gaze moved to the boy's face. His hair was long, much longer than it had been in defense class that afternoon. The hair wasn't uniform in length however, it was dirty and though pulled back much of it had come free and was tangled around his face. Severus reached forward and swept a chunk of lock from the boy's forehead. His lips parted in surprise at another scar on the boy's forehead. It reeked of dark magic. A curse scar. As though under a compulsion, Severus reached forward to brush it with his fingers. Suddenly, without warning, emerald eyes shot open, meeting Severus' black ones with surprise.

The boy uttered one sentence, "It. . . . worked."


	6. Chapter 6

6.

Daylight was breaking through the window in Hogwarts' infirmary. Slouched in an uncomfortable metal chair, Lily Potter kept her vigil as the morning light crept over the unconscious body of her son. He looked so old, she had remarked to Albus, and so tired.

Lily rubbed her eyes. Her sweet, 17 year-old boy had disappeared, leaving her with a worryingly different version of the son she had raised. Albus had been duly tight lipped about the entire thing thus far, but Lily couldn't help wonder. Sitting in the dark of the infirmary, her mind had begun to wind theories, each one more strange and bizarre than the last. As far fetched as it sounded, she had become convinced some sort of time travel incident had occurred. There was simply no other explanation she could comprehend. Her only hope was that this was not somehow connected to Voldemort. Lily wasn't delusion however; these days when something terrible happened, the Dark Lord was behind it.

And then there was Ron. The red-headed man was lying in the bed nearest to Harry's. He looked so far beyond awful that Lily couldn't fathom what he must have been though. The young man was clearly a hairsbreadth away from death. Even once he had been patched up, Madam Pomfrey had said she wasn't sure if he would last longer than a few days. Too weak to be moved, Ron was staying at Hogwarts rather than being flooed or taken by port key to St. Mungo's. Albus had just left to fire called the Weasley's; for the moment the headmaster would be sequestered up in his office awaiting their arrival. Madam Pomfrey stabilized the two boys and went into her office, saying she would fire call a friend from St. Mungo's for a consultation. Apparently there was a possibility of using a curse breaker to aid Ron's failing body. Lily heard the healer rather distantly. She was swimming in a fog of confusion and disturbing thoughts.

The steady hum and regular beeping of monitoring charms were the only noise on the ward as Lily sank deeper into her own mind.

Suddenly a cup of tea was thrust before her. Lily started and reached for her wand before realizing the tea was not an imminent threat to her son or her person. Years of vigilance and war had made even a school professor guarded. After a tense moment Lily gratefully accepted the tea and turned toward Severus Snape, who was conjuring a chair for himself. She hadn't heard him enter, but then, Severus was a man who had refined discretion to an art.

"I take it you haven't yet been able to contact him?" He asked in a low voice.

"No," Lily quietly replied, her hands beginning to rattle the cup and saucer. "I called the office. James went to Edinburgh to question a Death Eater with Sirius this afternoon. Neither of them have come back or checked in since midnight. I sent my Patronus, but so far. . ." Her voice trailed off as her eyes remained glued to the disheveled black hair in the bed. Her son being so mysteriously injured was horrid enough without her husband having vanished.

"Lily." Severus leaned forward and placed his hands on hers. Startled green eyes met solemn black ones. "We will sort this out. We will find James and Sirius. Harry will wake up and tell us what has happened and then we will find a way to fix whatever has been broken."

Lily's smile was tired, but genuine. "Thanks Sev. I think the hardest part is not knowing. I just wish he would wake up."

Her old friend leaned back and nodded. "Loathe as I am to have him up and about, strutting about the castle as though we should all be grateful for his mere presence, I'm sure your son will be fine. He's too thick-headed to allow me the relief of anything else."

Lily snorted. Trust Severus to know just what to say and then to follow it up with his usual sardonic humor. She was glad for his friendship, particularly in these troubling times. It had been touch and go between them in their later years at school, with Severus and James hating one another so viciously. She had thought her old friend lost to her forever as he seemingly sank deeper and deeper into the Dark Arts.

Harry's stirring interrupted her thoughts. His finger twitched suddenly and he issued a low moan. Lily stood, rushing over to her son.

"Harry," she murmured softly, placing a hand on his forehead to push back his long hair.

Harry's eyes snapped open. He jerked away from her touch and inhaled sharply. Lily hastily pulled her hand back as Harry began to push himself up by his arms. The bright green eyes darted around the room, taking in both his mother and Snape, who stood a few paces behind her, looking tense. He brought his eyes back to Lily.

"The others?" He croaked.

"It was only Ron with you," Lily said. "Are there more-" She cut off her question abruptly as Harry twisted his body around to survey the area behind him for the first time. His eyes settled on the man in the next bed.

In the next instant Harry threw the blanket off himself and went to stand. Still weak, his knees buckled and he hit the floor with a sharp crack. Lily hastily moved around the bed to help him but Harry had already crawled most of the way to his friend. It was only a moment and Harry was pulling himself up to Ron's bedside. He was still kneeling, his hands turning his friend's unconscious face toward him.

"What's wrong with him?" Harry's voice was still hoarse but held a definite tone of command.

Lily stopped short. Harry had never spoken with such authority, as though he were certain of their compliance. This was a man who was used to having other pay close attention to his words. Lily looked back at Severus. His face was impassive and he showed no sign of speaking up, so Lily answered.

"Madam Pomfrey is doing everything she can for him. He's been injured and-"

"I said what is wrong with him? Specifically." Harry's voice had become threatening as he interrupted. His eyes never left Ron's face. Lily was stunned. Her son had never spoken so coldly. It was the voice of a much older man.

Severus chose that moment speak up. "He is suffering from prolonged torture. When we found Mr. Weasley, he had compound fractures in both femurs. He has sustained third degree burns on 22 percent of his body. All the nails on his left hand were removed, as was his right ear. We believe he was the victim of several dark hexes and curses, including unforgivables, severe malnutrition, infection and sepsis. He lost a near fatal amount of blood from a deep neck wound, which seems to have severed both carotid arteries. He is in a magical coma. In short, he will most likely die sometime over the next seventy two hours."

Lily looked sharply back at Severus, who did not meet her glower, and then to the back to her son. He seemed impassive, as though the news his closest friend was dying was neither surprising nor particularly upsetting. Lily began to grow uneasy with Harry's apparent lack of emotion.

"Harry, if you would just-" Once again, Lily was startled into silence. She watched as, without warning, her wand flew into Harry's outstretched hand. He made a silent, sweeping, broad stroke. Lily and Severus flew back, pinned to the wall and unable to move. The sound of their cries drew Madam Pomfrey, but as she opened the door to her office Harry waved his hand again. The professors could hear her banging on the door. It was all over before either Severus or Lily had any chance to comprehend the decisive action, let alone attempt a counter attack.

"Silenco." Harry waved his hand again. As the two teachers watched in horrified silence, Harry wrenched himself up to his feet and staggered over to the nearest medical cabinet. He pulled drawers out, tossing them aside, and cleared shelves with a shaking sweep of his arm. Finally, Harry found a pair of metal tongs. He closed his fist around them and limped back to Ron. Severus watched as the boy steadied himself and closed his eyes. When he opened is fist a moment later, the tongs had become a sharp blade.

"La sangre para la vida. La sangre tira. La sangre tira. Soy el vaso sanguíneo. Tome mi sangre para él. La sangre tiara. La sangre para la vida . ." Harry began to chant. He continued the melodic chanting and both the professors could feel magic beginning to swirl around the young man.

Lily's eyes widened as Harry raised the knife and began to carve into his chest. With his back turned toward her, Lily couldn't see what her son was cutting, but large amounts of blood began to flow from his torso. Harry cupped it in his hands and quickly began to draw a series of complicated runes on Weasley's chest, using his own blood to paint. He continued to chant as he covered Ron from head to toe in intricately drawn patterns, leaning heavily on the bed. His voice became more and more feeble and Harry began to falter. Still, he continued on chanting until he swayed dangerously. He staggered to the bed behind him and crumpled, falling unconscious.

Lily and Severus watched in growing horror as Harry's blood began to pool around him and drip to the floor. At the very least, Lily thought wildly as she fought against the sticking charm, Harry wasn't dead yet; his spell had not failed. But it was getting weaker and Lily was panicking.

Severus had just managed to free a hand from the wall when the doors opened to reveal Dumbledore and the frantic Weasleys. Taking in the scene before him in a quick glance, Albus waved his wand, canceling the sticking charms and Silenceo Harry had cast. Madam Pomfrey threw open the door to her office as Lily and Severus regained their balance.

Molly raced to Ron. "What's happened to him?" She yelled, throwing herself over the body of her son. Lily ran toward Harry as Arthur moved behind his wife. Madam Pomfrey looked from one bloodied boy to the other before moving forward to check on Ron.

"What in Merlin's name happened here?" Arthur demanded.

"He used, 'La Sangre en la Sangre Fuera.'" Severus told the headmaster.

Albus' eyes widened. He swiftly pivoted and began to mutter a string of Spanish words over Harry's prone body. Snape moved to the battered medical cabinet where he managed to find one blood replenishing potion that hadn't been smashed. He quickly returned to Harry's bed and once again spelled the potion into the boy's stomach.

"Merlin!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed. "Headmaster, Mr. Weasley is improving!" She turned from her assessing spells to see the headmaster still muttering, moving his wand in complex circles. Finally, he stopped. With the headmaster's efforts ceased, so too did the oppressive feeling of heavy magic flowing throughout the room. Dumbledore quickly cleaned the blood from Harry's chest and levitated the boy's body to another bed. At once Lily began to heal the deep cuts on his chest. She noticed, as they faded, Harry's torso was covered in lines of fine, criss-crossing scars.

"I expect Mr. Weasley's condition has improved?" Dumbledore asked Madam Pomfrey as he sat heavily in the chair Lily had earlier occupied. For once, he sounded weary.

"Yes." Madam Pomfrey's voice was somewhat awestruck. "I'm not detecting any lingering residual from hexes or curses and the damage to his skin and hand is completely healed. It seems as though the degradation to his organs has not only stopped but reversed. We won't know for sure until he wakes but I believe Ronald will recover."

Mrs. Weasley let out a sob and began to clean the blood from her son.

"Headmaster, how. . . what has happened?" Arthur's voice was rather disbelieving. "You said Ron was as good as dead."

"It seems as though Mr. Potter cares more for Mr. Weasley's life than his own." Dumbledore replied. "The spell he used is classified as Dark, though its purpose is to restore health to a grievously injured person. The caster may give his own health and wellbeing to a chosen vessel, though the result is not merely a sharing of essence but a siphoning of it from one party to another. In this case," he gestured to Ron, "it appears as though Mr. Potter was willing to give his life for his friend. Only a wizard possessing the skill and precise knowledge could cancel the spell once enacted."

"He expected to die?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Yes." Dumbledore answered. "Though it is troubling Mr. Potter not only knew of this spell but was able to cast it. It is terribly obscure and one's conviction must be absolute for the transfer to be successful."

"It's not the first time he's used it," Lily's said softly. She ran her hand over her son's chest.

"He's carved himself up quite a bit," Severus remarked, leaning in. "I had noticed the scars earlier but not the pattern." He turned toward the headmaster. "He is stable now, but much weaker. You were able to stop the transfer before it killed him."

Tears were spilling from Lily's eyes. She wished desperately her husband was there to hold her. The situation with their son was rapidly deteriorating and Lily was at a loss as to how to proceed. She was good at solutions that came together over time, well thought out solutions and schemes required delicate refinement, like a good potion. James was the one who thought well on the fly. He had a strange way of finding solutions to seemingly impossible problems. He rushed headlong into danger, only to come out on the other side grinning. Lucky, Sirius said, but Lily had always thought it was more that James willed circumstances to accommodate him. He was a force unto himself. And as she sat covered in her son's blood, Lily thought they could really use some of that damned luck right about now.

XXXXX

At that very moment the man in question was growing increasingly annoyed.

James Potter was slouched on a bench, watching as Sirius Black paced back and forth in St. Bláán's. Admittedly, the most heavily warded wing of Edinburgh's magical hospital wasn't exactly the place either man wanted to be at four thirty in the morning.

James ran his hands through his hair for the fifth time in as many minutes. It wouldn't be so bad, being cooped up here, if not for the fact the wards prevented any messages, Patronus or otherwise, from entering or leaving the space. The high security ward was really rather inconvenient.

An orderly in bright red robes ducked out from a room and into the corridor.

"You're the aurorers, then? She's awake now, but she's fading in and out. Healer McDougal says you're not to upset her too greatly. You can have fifteen minutes."

James nodded and rose immediately as Sirius pushed past the young man. The two swept into the healing room. A young, heavily scarred woman lay on the white bed, her black hair fanned out around her like a terrible halo. She looked to be asleep.

The two men approached quietly.

"Miss?" Sirius asked in a soft voice. When he received no answer, he glanced at his partner. James shrugged and bent over to lightly touch her arm. The reaction was instant. Brown eyes flew open as James' wrist was encompassed by a thin hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong.

"Oh Harry, thank the Magic. I thought you hadn't made it." Her voice was faint and her hand relaxed as she looked at James. She reached up suddenly, pulling the stunned aura's face down to meet her lips.

James yanked himself away. His wide eyes met Sirius' as his friend's face broke into a grin. Clearly this girl was starkers. Though it occurred to James that she had said Harry. The mysterious girl might have been referring to his son. Though, James thought, she looked too old to be in Hogwarts.

"Miss, you're mistaken," James said firmly. "I am Auror James Potter and this is my partner, Auror Sirius Black. You are in St. Bláán's high security ward in Edinburgh. You were found several hours ago, severely injured. Do you recall what has happened to you?"

The brown eyes came sharply into focus, searching James face before darting to Sirius. Her lips parted, as though she were going to speak, before she clamped them shut. The two men looked at one another, wordless deciding between them a strategy to proceed.

"What's the year, then?" The girl asked suddenly.

"It's 1997." James replied slowly. She must have sustained a head injury, to not remember the year. The girl paled at his words, pursing her lips together in a grimace. It was a long moment before she spoke again. She seemed to be contemplating something.

"And I was the only one found?" She asked finally.

"Yes. It was just you. Are there others who were injured too?" James replied.

The girl sighed. "There were supposed to be three others. . . but if they're not here with me I'm not sure. . ." She trailed off, looking stricken. "Is Professor Dumbledore still alive?"

James and Sirius exchanged a panicked glance. "You think he's dead?" Sirius asked, the first words he had spoken thus far. "What do you know? Has something happened at Hogwarts?"

"Oh, no, I'm sorry. I must have been mistaken. Er. . . could I please speak with him? Since he's alive and well?" She seemed to be trying to cover up a sure slip. "It's urgent."

James decided it was time to regain control of this interview. "Look Miss, we are going to need you to answer a few questions before we go any further," he said. "Once we have things established we can contact your family, or anyone else you might need notified that you're here."

The girl sighed and leaned back in the pillow. "Alright. Fine. My name is Ginevra Molly Weasley-Potter. I am twenty years old. I am married to your son, Harry, who is twenty one. We were trying to cast a rather complex spell, and it seems to have gone wrong." She looked at the disbelieving faces of the two aurorers. "Look, you don't have to believe me, but I need to speak with Albus Dumbledore. It is absolutely imperative you contact him."

"Miss, my son is not twenty one years old. I am sorry to say you-" James started to respond only to be cut off by the girl who looked nothing like, but claimed to be, Ginny Weasley.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure your son is not twenty one. He would be seventeen, yes? And I'm sure you ran a blood identity spell before I woke so you'll know I'm telling the truth about myself as soon as it comes back. I can explain it all, but that's got to wait until after I speak with the professor. You have to contact him!"

James and Sirius exchanged another glance. Without a word Sirius turned and left the room.

"Alright, Miss Weasley-" He began again.

"It's Weasley-Potter, but you can just call me Mrs. Potter. I'm your daughter-in-law." She cut him off, rather impatiently.

"Fine. Mrs. Potter, then." James tried again. "Mrs. Potter, you were found gravely injured several hours ago atop Arthur's Seat in Edinburgh. Your blood levels were dangerously low, and your magical core is depleted. You have scars, particularly on your arms, that look as though they were deep enough to cause that type of blood loss. Do you remember who cut you, or who healed you afterword?"

"It doesn't really matter at the moment, does it?" She answered. "It would just be easier to tell the Order all at once, don't you think? I'd rather just get to Hogwarts or headquarters as quickly as possible."

James was stunned. The Weasley's weren't in the Order of the Phoenix, as far as he knew, nor had they ever been to headquarters. He was instantly wary. James drew his wand. This girl was clearly unbalanced at best, but she was in possession of knowledge of which, by all rights, she should not be. James was about to begin demanding truthful answers more forcefully when the orderly appeared in the room.

"Alright sir. Her heart rate is spiking. I'm going to have to ask you to step out." When James didn't move he said, louder, "Please sir, healer's orders. You need to leave."

With a last, long look at the girl on the bed, James turned and swiftly left, tugging the orderly along with him.

"This is Ministry business now." He told the affronted looking young man. "See to it that she doesn't leave and isn't moved, and that only healers with the highest Ministry security clearance see to her. She's not to have contact with anyone aside from the staff and Auror Black and myself."

The orderly looked stunned but one glance at James' determined face and he acquiesced.

"I'll let the healers know."

James nodded once and turned away to find Sirius.

He met his partner and best friend not far from the entrance to the high security ward. Sirius looked unusually pale.

"What is it?" James asked, "What's happened?"

"Apparently they've been trying to contact us all night." He replied. "Listen, mate, something's happened to Harry. He's in the infirmary at Hogwarts, along with Ron Weasley. They're both alive but it sounds like it's touch and go. We need to get there."

James swallowed thickly. He was using every ounce of his auror training to fight his own growing panic.

"Alright, I'm going to floo over. You can take it from here?"

"Dumbledore said we should both come and bring the mystery girl with us." Sirius replied. "Seems to want to hear what she has to say. You go on, I'll get the paperwork ready and bring her through by portkey in a mo'."

James was off before Sirius could say anything else.


	7. Chapter 7

7.

The light was growing again.

The silence was receding, the ebb and flow of life returning. There was beeping, and voices droning softly across the room. She couldn't quite make out what was happening or where she was. It was too bright and everything was blurry. She snapped her fingers to call her wand from its holster only to have no wand appear. Her lips parted to speak before realizing they were already open, a tube swallowed down her throat. Gasping, she reached for her neck and began pulling at it frantically, willing herself to calm. There was the sound of increased beeping and suddenly footsteps grew louder.

"She's waking up. Increase the dosage." A woman's voice floated in from above.

The black was closing in again, enveloping her. She tried to scream, to claw her way back to the light, but it was no use. She was swept up, a grain of sand washed into the sea of oblivion.

And everything was dark.

XXXXX

It was with a fury of swirling cloak and frantic magic that James Potter threw open the doors to the Hogwarts Infirmary. His eyes sought out bright emeralds in the low light. Their gazes locked and Lily rose. James strode to her, enveloping his love in a deep in his arms.

"Are you alright?" He asked quietly.

Lily made an affirmative noise that sounded slightly like a sob. "Yes. But Harry isn't. Poppy says she's not sure when he'll wake up, he's so weak. She's having to place him in stasis, like a potion, to keep him from dying while she treats him." Lily shuddered and stepped back from her husband. "What happened? Where were you?"

James ran his hand hand through his hair. "Merlin. The short version is that Padfoot and I went to Edinburgh to check on a Death Eater who's under court orders not to leave a particular area. Of course, he had, so we went looking for him. It was getting late and we were about to check back in with the main office when we found. . . well, we found a girl. She was badly injured so we took her over to St. Bláán's high security ward. It's the one the Ministry is testing out those new wards on, remember? No Patronous can pass through?"

Lily nodded, "Albus talked about them a few meetings ago?"

"Yeah," James said. "But we've been there trying to sort it all out. I am so, so sorry Lils. I had no idea you were trying to contact me."

James watched as his wife's demeanor softened. She dropped her crossed arms and took his hand, leading James to their son's bedside. The Auror could hardly believe his eyes.

"What in Merlin's name happened to him?" He turned, shocked, to his wife.

"It would seem to be something rather serious." Snape's drawl cut through the darkened infirmary.

"Bloody Hell man!" James exclaimed. "Could you, for once in your bleeding life, behave like a decent bloke? Have you been here the whole time?"

Severus slowly walked toward the couple. Though James would never admit it, the way the man had seemed to emerge from pure shadow was more than unsettling. Snape came to stand on the other side of Harry's bed.

"Yes," he said. "I've been tending to your wife and your son whilst you were off, not bothering to check in. Rather thoughtless of you, though I suppose it is typical."

James opened his mouth to snarl something nasty in reply when Lily cut in.

"That's quite enough." She said sharply. "Both of you. Two students from this school have nearly died tonight. I am at my wits' end and I'll not have you bickering like children. So help me, if you can't control yourselves for one moment I swear on my Magic I will make you both sorrier than you've ever been."

Both men went silent. Severus was inscrutable as always, though James had the good grace to look abashed. Lily looked darkly from one to the other. When it seemed the danger of their fighting had passed, she sighed and rubbed her eyes.

"Arthur and Molly are with Poppy in her office, talking with a healer from St. Mungo's about Ron. Albus left a bit ago, though I'm sure he'll be back before breakfast." She turned to James. "We're going to have to have something to say to Sylvia but I'm just not sure what. We don't have any answers as to what's happened at all."

"Well what has happened?" James asked. "How were the boys hurt?"

After a look from Lily, Snape supplied the answer. "I was with the Headmaster when the intruder alarm sounded," he began, "It was after midnight. He and I found both Potter and Weasley at the top of the Astronomy tower, covered in blood and perviously injured." Severus stopped, looking back to Lily to continue.

"Severus and I were alone in the ward," she said. "It was about an hour after after they'd been found. Poppy had stabilized Ron as best she could, but he was dying. Albus had gone to fire call Molly and Arthur so we were alone. And then Harry. . . Harry woke up." She paused for a moment. "But, James, it wasn't our son. I mean, he is our son, but it was like he'd become a different person. He was so cold, just demanded to know what had happened to Ron. And he performed nonverbal, wandless magic like it was nothing." Lily trailed off, wiping a few errant tears from her eyes.

James looked to Severus. "What kind of magic was it? I know Harry's good with defense, but I didn't think he'd made much progress with nonverbal spells, let alone wandless."

"He summoned Lily's wand nonverbally and then blasted us to the far wall and administered a sticking charm. He then magically locked Madam Pomfrey in her office and silenced us all." Snape continued on, relaying Harry's actions with all the feeling of man reading a grocery list. "While it is shocking that any son of your line could possess the innate talent and skill to perform this level of magic, it is his knowledge and subsequent use of an obscure, _Dark_, restoration ritual that is most concerning. Your son used powerful, _Dark_, magic to heal the Weasley boy and thereby drain himself of life." And here Severus held himself back from sneering at his old rival. "He would have died, had not the Headmaster known the appropriate counter and possessed the ability to enact it."

The ward fell into an uneasy silence. James was simply stunned. He'd always been proud of his son's accomplishments at defense and dueling, just as he had been with Harry's loyalty and bravery. But this was just too much. How could Harry have suddenly gained that level of ability or power? James gazed at this hardened version of his son while he mulled it all over.

"The girl we found said she was Harry's wife." James' proclamation elicited no expression from Snape and only raised eyebrows from Lily. The elder Potter looked back up at Lily. "She said she was Harry's wife, that she was twenty years old and that Harry was twenty one." James ran his hands once again through his hair. "She said she was Ginevra Weasley."

Lily looked stunned. "And you just left her there?"

"No," James replied. "Sirius is bringing her over now. When he spoke with the Headmaster he asked we move her to Hogwarts and not inform the Ministry. It'll be tricky to cover it up; she was in a bad way and we weren't exactly discreet when we brought her in. But I suppose if anyone can tidy things up, it's Padfoot." He paused, eyes focused on nothing in particular before sharpening on his son. "Where's the list of Harry's injuries?"

Lily pulled a clip board from the foot of Harry's bed and handed it off to her husband. She turned to the Defense master.

"Would you speak with Syl? She needs to be told something before the rumors start at breakfast. Nothing too shocking, but she should know at least that Harry is ill." Lily's gaze rested on her son. "I just don't want to leave him yet."

"Of course." Severus replied. Without another word he swept from the room, making his way toward the Hufflepuff common room.

Once Snape had gone, James read for a few more moments. The further he read, the deeper his frown grew.

"This is bad." He ran his hands through his messy hair again. "What does Dumbledore say?"

"Not much." Lily sighed. "He's about his usual business. But I don't think he can know much more than we do. I'm assuming he's checking with whatever sources he has on Voldemort."

James shuddered. "It doesn't really matter how often we say it, that name still makes me feel peaked." He wrapped his arms around Lily. "It will be alright Lils. Somehow, it'll be alright."

The pair stood, arms entwined, watching the morning sun make its way over the mountains behind the castle.

XXXXX

Sylvia was soaring.

Flying swiftly above Hogwarts, she spun into a barrel roll before dipping down over the Forbidden Forrest. Her toes swept along the treetops and she reared back pulling up sharply. High above the Quidditch pitch Sylvia paused a moment before angling her broom toward the Earth. She closed her eyes and let go, raising her arms to the shining sun.

She was the wind. She was alive. She was _flying_.

And suddenly she was in her own four-poster bed, being shaken awake by Megan Jones.

"Huh? Whatdayawant?" Sylvia tried to bat away her best friend and roll back over.

"Professor Snape is down in the common room. He says he needs to talk to you. I guess it's important." Megan replied.

"Professor Snape? Er. . . okay, okay." Sylvia rolled out of bed, flinging the covers off herself. "How come you're up so early?"

"I forgot to finish that Ancient Runes translation." Megan was frowning. "I hate those Goblin influenced runes. Bloody pointless, if you ask me. It's not like we can really harness their magic anyway. . ."

"Hmm," Sylvia nodded. She threw on a dressing gown and headed for the door. "I'll see you later, then?"

She headed out the rounded door without waiting for an answer.

Sylvia almost laughed as she rounded the corner into the common room. Professor Snape looked like a giant bat amongst hobbits. He was terribly out of place, large and looming, as though he couldn't bring himself to sit amidst so much warm yellow. There was a Hufflepuff first year eyeing him with fear from the other side of the room. Snape's back was to Sylvia, and she hadn't given much thought why the Defense master was in her common room at all until he turned round. Snape's expression was grim, and he assessed her through bloodshot eyes.

"Who died?" Sylvia deadpanned.

"No one," Snape answered. His tone was the usual inscrutable one he used with Sylvia; a hint of warmth smothered beneath layers of indifference. Sylvia, of course, knew better.

"So," she replied, "who's _going_ to die, then?"

"Your brother has somehow gotten himself rather injured, along with Mr. Weasley," Snape said. "Neither is in danger of dying, but they're both in the hospital wing. Your mother asked I speak with you before breakfast; she's with him now."

"What's happened to Harry?" Sylvia asked.

"We're not sure. The Headmaster, however, will have it sorted out. You're not to visit until after class today. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly." Sylvia's answer was bitter. Harry had done some stupid thing or another and, as usual, she was being kept out of the family loop. "Bloody Griffyndor's," she muttered.

Snape cracked a small smile. "Indeed. They will be the ruin of us all." He sighed, "I shall see you at breakfast." With a nod, Snape swept from the common room, clearly eager to be out of such unfamiliar territory as quickly as possible.

It wasn't until later when Sylvia was toweling her hair, starring at her own reflection in the steamy mirror, that she realized it was highly irregular that Professor Snape had come to find her rather than Professor Sprout. Something, Sylvia was sure, was seriously amiss. Of course, her brother was once again in some sort of trouble and once again their mum was rushing to his aid. It rankled. Being a 'Puff rather than a Griffyndor was a surprise for which Sylvia had been happy. She knew she wasn't really suited for the Lions but she suspected her parents hadn't quite gotten over the shock. It seemed they were always so united in their Griffyndor pride and, truly, Sylvia was sick of it. Leaning over the sink to see clearly into the reflection of her own startling green eyes, Sylvia vowed to herself that she wouldn't be kept in the dark anymore.

XXXXX

Breakfast had come and gone before there was any more excitement to be had in Hogwarts' infirmary.

It seemed that everyone was deeply engaged in doing nothing in particular. Lily was dozing lightly, having conjured a squishier reclining chair for herself. James was too nervous to even attempt sleep. Every time he sat it was as though his skin was crawling. Restless, he assumed pacing in Sirius' place. Severus had headed back to attend to his own classes while Albus had agreed to fill in for Lily's. He had assured both the Weasley's and the Potter's he could offer no further assistance for either of the boys until one of them woke up. Arthur had elected to speak with the other Weasley children before breakfast. He was still out, presumably owling or fire calling his large brood of redheads. For her part, Molly had stationed herself in a rather uncomfortable looking chair next to Ron's bed. Her tense eyes followed James as he paced back and forth while her hands worked tirelessly at some random piece of knitting.

The doors to the infirmary banged open, causing all present parties not in a magically-induced coma to start violently.

"Merlin, Sirius!" James yelled, though he dropped his voice to a theatrical whisper when both Lily and Molly shushed him. "Couldn't resist an entrance?"

Sirius looked shamefaced from James to the two bed-bound boys. "Didn't mean to be so loud. Sorry for that. But look," he turned and levitated a medical stretcher in behind him, "I've brought our mystery girl."

"You could have at least Disillusioned her," Molly said from Ron's bedside. "What if one of the students saw?"

"Healer's orders. No Disillusionment for the next forty-eight hours," Sirius said as he levitated the girl off her stretcher and onto a bed near Harry's. "But I did put up a Notice-Me-Not charm. Give me some credit Molly."

The Weasley matriarch looked far from abashed but said nothing more. Her knitting needles began clicking at speeds Sirius was sure weren't humanly possible. Lily went to the bedside of the girl to inspect their newest mystery charge while James spoke quietly with Sirius.

"You got the paperwork all taken care of, then?" James asked.

"Yes." Sirius replied as he retied his long, black hair into a tail behind his head. "It wasn't easy, mind you. I've never had to falsify so many documents or modify so many memories, even on Order business. Albus might need to nip up there and make sure I've not missed anything."

James nodded, "I'm sure you sorted it, but I'll mention it to him. Get anything else out of her after I left?"

"Not a word," Sirius replied as the pair made their way over to the girl in question. "The healer gave her a dreamless sleep potion about an hour ago. She should be out for a few more hours."

"My God." Lily's voice carried across the room. Both the Aurors and Molly looked up at her exclamation. Lily was white as a sheet. "This. . . this _is_ Ginny Weasley." Lily's green eyes found Molly's as the later flew from her seat to the unconscious girl's bedside.

"This girl can't be Ginny," Molly exclaimed. "Look at this scar, it's long since healed. Ginny didn't have it when she left for school last week. And she's older. This isn't a sixteen-year-old." Molly looked wildly from Lily to James to Sirius. "It's just not possible. How would she have gotten to Edinburgh? She can't apparate yet. No, no, this isn't possible. . . " Molly was staring at the girl on the bed, running her hands through the girl's black hair as though inspecting her face more closely could yield some clue to the girl's true identity.

"Molly. . ." Sirius began. He stopped when the woman's red-rimmed eyes met his own. He cast a glance at James. "When James and I were questioning her at St. Bláán's she claimed to be Ginny. She said she was older, twenty, and that Harry was twenty-one. She. . ." He trailed off as Molly's expression became threatening. Her hand seemed to be unconsciously reaching for her wand.

"It's true," James cut in before Mrs. Weasley could cast something nasty at Sirius. "She said those things. The healers ran an blood identity spell on her before we left." He turned to his best mate. "Did you get the results before you left?"

"It was inconclusive," Sirius said. "It's all in her paperwork, here," he said as he hastily handed the file to Molly and took a step back.

Molly riffled through the file, eyes scanning the paperwork and she tore through one page after another. Finally she looked back up at the other adults. Her eyes found Lily and she seemed to be pleading as she asked, "But surly Ginny is in class here today? Arthur said he would speak to her after he fire called the other boys."

Lily put her arm around her old friend. "I'm not sure what's going on, but we'll figure it out. Let's start by eliminating our unknowns. Sirius," and here she glared at the Black heir, "would be more than happy to find Arthur and see to it that Ginny is where she's supposed to be."

"Oh yes, yes I would." Sirius said hastily. "In fact, I'm off right now." He turned and nearly fled the room, leaving James to stand awkwardly as Lily comforted a now crying Molly.

It seemed like ages before Sirius returned with Arthur. While they waited, lunch had been sent up by the house elves. Molly had calmed down enough to take a bit of tea and James had been scolded by Lily no less than four times for his incessant pacing. None of their young charges had awoken, though Madam Pomfrey had come from her office to check on them twice. They were all stable, she said.

"Sirius tells me Ginny is here?" Arthur's weary voice sounded as he and the auror entered the infirmary.

"She wasn't in class?" Molly demanded, rising to greet her husband.

"No, she wasn't," Arthur said as he moved toward the bed of the unconscious girl. "I spoke with Luna, but she said she hadn't seen her at breakfast either. Minerva went to check and Ginny isn't in bed either." He looked down at the girl with the black hair. "How can this be our daughter? She looks like Ginny, but clearly she isn't."

"I am afraid there is rather a lot we don't understand."

"Dumbledore!" Arthur exclaimed as the headmaster joined them. "What in Merlin's name is going on?"

"I believe Miss Weasley should be able to answer that question for us once she awakens." Albus replied as he made his way to the group of confused adults. "Poppy, would it be alright to Rennervate Miss Weasley?"

Madam Pomfrey, who had joined the group when Arthur and Sirius returned, nodded at the headmaster. "She needs rest, but there's no reason why she can't be awake for a bit. The dreamless sleep potion should have just about worn off by now."

"Headmaster, earlier she seemed unbalanced," James said. Molly and Arthur flashed him looks he couldn't quite identify. "I'm sorry," he said to them, "but I thought Albus should know before we wake her up."

"Quite right James," the Headmaster said. "It is best to exercise caution. I believe, however, we are in need of answers to our questions sooner, rather than later." Dumbledore smiled reassuringly and turned to the girl on bed. With a simple Rennervate her eyelids began to flutter. Brown eyes opened to find the group of adults circled around her bed and the girl who called herself Ginny Weasley gasped.

"MUM!" She screamed and launched herself at the shocked Mrs. Weasley. The girl's arms were wound tightly around Molly before she could react. "I am sososososososo happy to see you!" The girl cried, tears steaming down her face.

"Ginny," Arthur said softly, as though approaching a wounded animal. "Ginny, are you alright?"

His question was met with another leaping bear hug and repeated cries. Arthur's wide eyes looked to Albus for guidance. The headmaster smiled benignly back, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Gin, love, I think your father needs to breathe," Harry's weak voice cut through Ginny's sobbing. Like a switch had gone off Ginny dropped her crushing grip on her father and barged through the cluster of adults to get to Harry. She threw herself into his arms for only a moment before pulling back and taking his face into her hands. Lily felt as though it was all a bit melodramatic.

"You look peaked." Ginny's voice was accusing.

Harry smiled sheepishly. "Ron was in bad shape."

"Our Ron?" Her voice was sharper now, more present.

"Yeah. They found us together." Harry gestured to the bed next to his own and Ginny laid eye's on her brother.

"Merlin," she whispered. "Were you in time?"

"He'll be okay," Harry answered, a grin breaking across his face. "We did it Gin. . . well, we mostly did it." He smiled tenderly at Ginny. "Let's figure out exactly where we went wrong, then?" He gestured toward the crowd of adults, each wearing a different emotion prominently on their face. Harry took them all in, moving from the faces of two people he'd once so deeply longed to know, to the faces of the couple he'd come to love as surrogate parents. It was the safer option to deal directly with Dumbledore so Harry fixed his gaze on the elderly wizard.

"I'm assuming you have some idea what's happened?" Harry asked, a note of amusement in his voice.

"I have many hypotheses, each more enjoyably outrageous than the next," Albus answered. "I would need some confirmation to settle on just one, however."

"Well, I'm up for a tale or two." Harry thew back his covers and attempted to stand. Ginny moved seamlessly beneath his arm to help brace him. Without looking what she was doing, Ginny reached her free hand toward an area next to her hip. Her hand met the healing gown, groping empty space. She looked down, startled.

"Bugger. They took my things."

"We'll get them back soon," Harry said soothingly. Turning to the adults his eyes once again met with Dumbledore's.

"I think we'll start with the date, then?" He asked.

"It's September fourth, 1997," James was impatient. He'd done this song and dance once already with the faux-Ginny and had no desire for a repeat with this faux-Harry.

"Right." Harry said, "We'd been aiming for 1981. Specifically, for January of 1981. Clearly that didn't take."

"So you're time travelers?" Molly cut in. Her voice was incredulous.

Harry looked startled, as though being interrupted wasn't something that often happened to him. He didn't look at Mrs. Weasley or acknowledge her question.

"There were four of us," he said to pointedly to Dumbledore, and Dumbledore alone. "Myself and Ginny, obviously, but Luna Lovegood and Hermione Granger were with us as well. So our first order of business is to see if both of them made the transfer too."

"I've already sent each head of house to do a count of all their students," Albus said. "I felt it would be prudent to ensure we aren't missing any additional members of our school. Professor Snape should return with the results shortly."

The Defense master's name seemed to throw Harry off, if only for a moment. He stopped, eyes far away, but in a blink had shrugged whatever emotion it was off and returned sharply to the here and now. Harry saw that Albus had noticed the slip. Before he could say anything else Arthur spoke up.

"I spoke with Luna Lovegood this morning when I was looking for Ginny. She didn't seem to be a time traveler."

Harry was frowning again. He exchanged a silent look with Ginny before turning back to the headmaster.

"Okay, so we know Luna didn't make it then. Ron might have come in her place for some reason, but I really won't be sure until we find Hermione."

"Wait, you mean the Granger girl?" Lily asked, obviously confused. "Why would you ever bring her back in time?"

Harry and Ginny both looked surprised at Lily's statement. "Why would we?" Harry asked, "Maybe because she's one of the two strongest, bravest, best women I know?"

"But you and Miss Granger loathe each other," Lily pressed. "What happens in between now and four years from now that changes that?"

Harry suddenly looked weary. He sighed and ran his hand through his shaggy black hair. The gesture reeked so heavily of James that all doubts about the boy flew from Lily head. This _was_ their son.

"It would take too long to explain right now. So let's just say that things get bad with Voldemort and we were trying to reach back into the past, to change it."

"Such magic has never been achieved in recorded history," Albus said breezily. He might have been having an academic chat with a fellow professor.

"No, but there is president for it with Time-Turners. We just took the theory behind them and expanded it a bit," Harry replied.

"You would relive the past thirty years?" Dumbledore inquired.

"It's not such a terrible price to pay for destroying Voldemort." Harry shrugged. "We were all okay with it. And it's not like there was much of a future where we were coming from anyway."

"I see." It was all Dumbledore said, but his expression was sorrowful.

Harry waved the moment away. "We don't need your pity," he said. "We can go into details later, but it's most important to figure out if Hermione made it here or not."

"She is not within Hogwarts." Snape's voice cut in. Both James and Sirius swore rather loudly. Only Albus, Harry and Ginny seemed unsurprised at his presence.

"Ah, Severus. Is it only Miss Granger missing?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes. The Lovegood girl, along with all the other students, are accounted for," Snape replied.

"Then let's find Hermione, shall we?" Harry asked Ginny, who nodded. She gently lowered Harry back to the bed and withdrew from him. They shared a lingering look before Ginny's shoulders became set and she turned from Harry to the assembled crowd.

"I'll need a wand," she said to Sirius. Ginny was grinning like mad all of a sudden and Sirius was visibly hesitant to hand her a potential weapon.

"Sirius." Harry said in that commanding tone of which he seemed so fond. "Her wand. Now."

"Oh, right. Here." Sirius felt himself reach for it as though compelled. He withdrew a leather pouch from the interior of his robes and tossed it to Ginny. In one swift motion she caught the bag, withdrew her wand and brought it from head to toe in a sweeping motion. There was a flash of light and she was gone.

"GINNY!" Molly yelled, reaching for the spot where her daughter had been a moment ago.

"She'll be fine," Harry said distractedly. He was staring at the unmoving form of Ron Weasley again.

Both Weasley's wheeled around to Dumbledore for answers. To their shock, the headmaster was smiling.

"Quite exceptional, indeed," he said to Harry. "Who devised it?"

"Ginny actually," Harry responded with a smile. It slipped from his face in a blink, and suddenly James wasn't sure it'd really been there at all. "She's spent a long, long time wanting to disappear."


	8. Chapter 8

8.

The world was coming back with a bang.

Well, a beeping sound. But if felt like a bang. The banging beeping was intruding in her bubble of peace. It was incessant.

Hermione hated it with a passion. She raised her hands to rub her crusted eyes. Hermione's mouth was cotton, dry and caked in something of which she was sure she didn't want to know. Hermione drew a deep breath. To her horror, she realized was fighting against a steady push-pull of air. In, pause, out. In, pause, out. In, pause, out. It was some sort of tube and she couldn't breathe. Hermione used every ounce of her self control to refrain from ripping out the tube. She frantically searched the room for signs of Harry, Ginny, Luna. . . anyone!

But she was alone. It was a muggle hospital, Hermione noted. She was beginning to win the battle against herself, engaging the strange sense of detached panic normally reserved for life-or-death situations. It was a familiar feeling. But she was alone, in an unknown muggle hospital and they had intubated her. It wasn't surprising really, fate had a way of buggering over anyone with good intentions.

She would need a doctor or healer to remove the tube. A healer would be preferable, but there was none to be had. At least with a muggle doctor she could plead memory loss or some other such tosh. Or she could vanish it herself and disappear. Decision made, "_Accio wand_," Hermione thought. She frowned when no wand soared into her open hand. She wasn't this bad at nonverbal, wandless spells. But then again, Hermione felt weaker than usual and it was apparent her belongings had been removed quite some distance. They could have at least kept her possessions somewhere reasonably close. Now her things were probably lost forever.

Option B then. She pressed the call button. It was a moment before the nurse arrived, but she froze at the sight of Hermione sitting upright. The woman looked dumbfounded.

_"Not supposed to ever wake up. . ." _The muggle woman's thoughts were wholly unprotected from Hermione's Legilimency.

Hermione gestured emphatically to her throat, pointing to the woman and then back to the nurse simply stared. After what seemed like an eternity the she snapped back into the here and now.

"I. . . I'm sorry miss, but it's not possible just yet. I'll page Doctor Ferguson. She'll be right down to talk with you." Hermione attempted, and was thwarted in her attempt, to sigh as the woman ducked out of the room. Good healthcare was increasingly hard to come by.

XXXXX

Later, when Harry had time to reflect on the whole crazy mess, he'd come to the conclusion that it was really more amusing than anything. Surreal, even. The situation was like one of those old muggle shows he used to watch late at the Dursley's, complete with a large cast and a laugh track (this one was supplied by himself). He still felt weak from using the restoration spell with Ron, so Harry simply crossed his arms and laid back to watch the scene unfold.

The Weasley's were beside themselves with worry; worry for their son, their daughter and whether or not any of their other children were going to show up from a supposed future acting barmy and sporting mysterious battle scars. The had set upon Albus, who was trying to calm them in that way he did. The headmaster in particular captured Harry's attention. Dumbledore possessed a true talent for the delicate duel art of leadership and pacification. Handling people in chaotic situations was a skill Harry himself had worked long and hard to acquire, but Harry feared he would never become quite so skilled. It was a marvelous thing to watch Dumbledore spin his web.

Harry tore his attention from one set of ghosts to another. The Potters were talking quietly amongst themselves too far away for Harry to hear what was being said. Their heads were tilted close and Harry watched as James ran his hand up and down Lily's arm. Something tight clenched in Harry's stomach and he looked away. Right into the waiting eyes of Sirius Black.

"So," Black began cheerfully, "where am I in four years? Living with the most beautiful witch this side of the channel? Leading the Cannons to a winning season? Maybe I'm the Minister for Magic?"

Harry cracked a small smile. Good old Sirius. The clinical part of Harry was wondering what their relationship would be like, now that they were both adults. Would Sirius and he fight well together? Would it be strange to command Sirius, to send him into battle? Would Harry hesitate to risk his Godfather in the way he'd become accustomed to risking the lives of others? Despite the rapid flow of thoughts coursing through Harry's mind, his emotions were simpler. He wanted nothing more than to break down in tears right at that second; it was almost more than Harry could bear not to reach out and clutch Sirius to himself.

"It doesn't really matter now," Harry said at length. He hoped he had managed to keep his voice from wavering. "Whatever was going to happen isn't now, is it? We're changing things as we speak."

"I suppose so," Sirius seemed to consider that for a moment. "Well, what can you tell us?"

"Not a lot, I'm afraid," Harry said. He left it at that, turning back to look at Ron.

Sirius seemed at a loss for how to proceed. "So you and Ginny, eh? When does that happen?"

Harry snorted. "You think I've come from a future where I was obviously fighting a war against the greatest dark lord of our time, possibly bearing the secret to defeating him and in the process saving thousands of lives, and what you want to ask me about when I got together with my wife?"

"It's a fair question," Sirius said sheepishly. "Though I suppose, when you put it that way. . ."

Harry snorted and flashed Sirius a genuine grin. It was amazing, Sirius thought, how the smile transformed his godson's face.

"Some things really never do change," Harry muttered. He seemed to oscillate wildly between moods, Sirius noted. When he turned and looked at the auror, his smile was disarmingly lighthearted. "I'm going to catch some more sleep. No telling when Ginny will be back with Hermione, but wake me if they turn up or Ron decides to join us." Without waiting for an answer, Harry turned his back to his godfather and shut his eyes.

XXXXX

As the rest of her table chattered lightly, Sylvia concentrated on her plate, stabbing her potatoes with venom.

Harry had been injured the last night. She had been a good little 'Puff, not visiting him until after classes today. Of course, once she reached the infirmary, her mother and Madam Pomfrey had insisted that she couldn't see Harry or Ron. Too weak for visitors, they said. As if she wasn't part of the family. Sylvia stabbed her plate again.

"Alright, what's wrong?" Megan put aside her potions book and looked across the table at her friend.

"Nothing at all," Sylvia said. "Why should anything be wrong?"

"Oh come off it," Megan said as she reached over and pulled the fork from Sylvia's fist.

"Fine. It's everything," Sylvia said. "Harry's injured and I'm not allowed to see him. My mum sends Professor Snape to talk to me rather than bothering to come herself. She's taking her supper in the hospital wing, but oh no, Harry's just fine. And then both Ginny and that annoying Granger girl just vanished from school. I seriously doubt they both came down with Spattergroit overnight. I'm telling you, something weirder than usual is going on."

"I am sorry about Harry, V. Truly," Megan said. "But don't you think you're taking it a little hard? Harry and Ron will both be fine. Maybe they'll be a bit less prone to pranking now that one's gone so badly."

Sylvia snorted. "I doubt that they'll ever give it up. But seriously," Sylvia leaned across the table and waited for Megan to come closer. "I don't think it was a prank. I think something really dodgy is going on. If Harry isn't seriously hurt why didn't Mum teach her classes? And why is Dad here at all? I heard his voice when I went to see Harry this afternoon. Plus Neville won't even tell me what happened." Sylvia sent a glare toward the Griffyndor table. "Everything is out of sorts. And, on top of it, Professor Snape is avoiding me. I went to his office after they wouldn't let me into the infirmary and he wouldn't see me. Like I was just another student or something!"

Megan frowned. "That is weird. I dunno though. I mean, maybe he really was busy?"

"Yeah right," Sylvia laughed. "My own Godfather suddenly can't make time to see me? No, something's wrong here and I'm going to find out what it is."

"Okay," Megan said, "but don't do anything too stupid." She surveyed her friend uneasily.

"Come on Meg. When I decide to pull something I never get caught. Admit it." Sylvia was leaning back, a slight smile across her face.

"Alright, point there," Megan sighed. "You really should have been sorted into Sylitherin. I can't imagine what the hat was thinking."

"That's the best part about it." Sylvia was smirking now. "They always expect the 'Puffs to be doddering fools. When we put our minds to something, they never, ever, see it coming."

XXXXX

Another shot of firewhiskey slammed down on the bar.

Brown eyes peered out from between fingers. After a moment Ginny lifted her head from her hands to regard the liquor. She eyed it as though it might actually burn her at any moment. In a swift motion she tossed the shot back and pushed the empty glass down the bar. Ginny swayed a bit and ran both hands through her tangled black hair.

"It's a bit early to be drinking so much," a gruff voice chimed in from beside Ginny.

She didn't turn fully to face the wizard, but Ginny surveyed him from the corner of her eyes. She knew he'd been watching her kick back shots for at least an hour. He was not a particularly large man, nor particularly small. His hair was brown, Ginny supposed, though the exact shade seemed unnameable. There was really nothing very distinguished about the man. His entire aura reeked of mediocrity. He was using magic to evade notice but, Ginny noted, he had purposely initiated contact with her.

He was a threat. And Ginny would treat him as such.

"I don't seem to be the only one partaking." She slurred her words slightly as she gestured to his own drink.

"You don't much see pretty, young lasses drinking themselves senseless alone in Knockturn alley," he responded.

"Maybe I have a high tolerance," Ginny said. She turned fully toward the man. "For many things."

The wizard didn't say a word. His eyes were fixed on the thick scar running down Ginny's face and throat. His gaze was longing.

She flashed him a toothy smile. "Didn't take you for a squeamish bloke. You afraid of little old me?"

He smirked. "Perhaps we can reach an understanding."

Ginny nodded, allowing her lips to upturn, and gestured to the door. "After you, then."

He thew down a few Galleons and offered her his arm. _"Gallant_,_"_ Ginny thought as they exited the bar, "_a pure blood."_ And, hopefully, a Death Eater. They had barely made it across the threshold when he jerked her arm, pulling them both into an adjacent alley. The man threw Ginny into the wall, knocking her head, and pressed himself against her. She froze as he bit her neck, hard, and groped at her breast.

"And if I should want to give you another remembrance like that one. . ." The wizard was eyeing her scar again.

Ginny have herself a mentally shake. Now was not the time.

"Darling," she smirked, "You couldn't afford it."

The wizard's confused face was illuminated by red light hitting him square in the chest. He slumped down instantly, nonverbally stunned. Ginny let him fall. She wiped the spot where he had bit her with the back of her hand. His bite would leave a mark. Glaring down at the crumpled form at her feet, she spit, and delivered a kick to his stomach for good measure. Taking a deep breath, Ginny braced herself against the wall and stared down at the wizard. After a short pause, she reached down and touched him with just the tip of her index finger.

A small "pop" sounded and both figures disappeared.

XXXXX

The hospital doors slid shut behind her as Hermione stepped into the evening air. Night had crept into London. She was glad for the anonymity, though not thrilled to be defenseless. Hermione glanced down at her scrubs and sandals, nicked from a locker room. The first order of business was to get proper clothing, followed swiftly by the acquisition of a wand.

Thankfully this was a area of London she knew; the hospital wasn't too far from university or Kings Cross. Hermione wandered toward Russell Square, keeping an eye out for a muggle about her size. It wasn't long until one passed. A student, by the look of her, had just caught the last tube and was now on the way home. Hermione slipped out from the shadows and began to follow the girl. As if by instinct, she seemed to increase in pace. Hermione matched it, taking longer strides to catch up. The muggle turned her head ever-so-slightly and Hermione broke into a sprint. She leapt, tackling the girl. They landed hard, Hermione knocking the wind out of the muggle and the girl's rucksack knocking the wind out of Hermione. The girl kicked out, Hermione grunted as the high heel stabbed into her leg. The witch lunged forward with both hands out and grabbed the girl's face. Her head hit the concrete with a sickening thump and the girl cried out.

"Stupefy!" Hermione said. Her hands glowed red but the girl continued to scream. "Stupefy! Stupefy! STUPEFY!"

It was the last spell that finally did it. Hermione collapsed on the now unconscious girl. Breathing heavily, she rested for only a moment before rolling off the body. They were both bleeding, Hermione noted absently. She grabbed the body under both arms and hoisted the girl into a doorway. Hopefully no one had seen. Hermione's hands were steady as she tugged at the jumper. The shoes were next. Hermione had begun to undo the belt buckle when she saw it. The wand was tucked into the front of her trousers. Ten inches, oak, by the look of it.

The girl was a witch. A witch who had chosen to attend muggle university, live in muggle London, but still kept her wand. The sound of footsteps in the distance snapped Hermione back into reality. She grabbed the wand and preformed the more efficient switching spell to swap the girl's remaining clothing with her own. The footsteps were growling louder, followed by voices. Hermione unzipped the rucksack and quickly dumped out the books. Her head snapped up at a bright light suddenly shinning in her eyes.

The officer would later say he'd found the victim alone. He'd never tell a living soul he had witnessed a woman vanish into thin air.

XXXXX

"Harry always has to be so difficult," Sylvia groaned aloud. While he wasn't exactly a Merlin when it came to classes, when properly motivated her brother was unexpectedly crafty.

It hadn't been hard to slip into the Griffyndor's common room on pretense of picking something up for Harry. All his belongings were still in the seventh year dormitory, which was, thankfully, currently devoid of any of its residents. Sylvia surveyed the mess with a keen eye. Harry was haphazard with his belongings for the most part, but the ones he truly treasured were well protected. A quick perusal of his trunk turned up nothing more interesting than old socks. The wardrobe and night table were busts too.

_"Think. You're not smart enough to ward your stuff like a Ravenclaw or jinx it like a Syltherin. And you're surrounded by such a block-headed lot that they'd take it without thinking twice so it can't be left in the open. . . "_ Sylvia's train of thought matched her appraisal of the room. No luck. With a sigh, she flopped back on Harry's bed. At least all the beds in Hogwarts were the same, comfortable, with sturdy wood and deep draping. . .

Sylvia hopped up onto the mattress and began to search the folds of the four poster drapes. She gave a triumphant yelp when she found a small pouch, just big enough to fit a hand, tucked away inside a fold of drape. Without further adieu Sylvia stuck her hand inside. Her arm promptly slid in up the elbow and with a flourish she pulled out her father's invisibility cloak. It was lovely, so soft and liquid-like in her hands. Sylvia spared herself only a moment for admiration before stuffing it back in the small bag. She grabbed one of Harry's school books at random; it wouldn't do to leave without something to shore up her cover story for being in the dormitory.

Sylvia headed back to her own common room with a smile. So her mother and Professor Snape were trying to keep her in the dark. Sylvia was about to turn the tables on them.

XXXXX

"Harry."

The man in question was completely still. The single sign of his waking state was the slight hitch in breath before the rising and falling of his chest evened out. He felt the bed depress next to him followed by the feather-light touch of a wand tip to his forehead. Instantly, his mind was flooded with visions: a young girl shrieking as a mountain troll lumbered toward her, a woman in sneaking out of muggle hospital, crouched over a prone figure on a street bathed in florescent light, the same woman Apparating across the country side and, finally, emerging from the secret tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow.

His eyes opened, meeting Hermione's straight on.

"Good of you to join us," he deadpanned.

"Miss Granger gave us quite the surprise," Albus Dumbledore said quietly. He was standing some feet behind Hermione, wearing his dressing gown. Harry spared him a single nod before pushing himself up to assess his friend.

"You didn't show me where you got the wand," he said.

"She was a witch, if you can believe that." A rather hysterical laugh bubbled up in Hermione before she could help herself. She snorted and covered her mouth quickly. "The _witch_ didn't even reached for her own wand. Can you imagine it? A world where people don't assume they're in danger all the time?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at Hermione. He didn't move, didn't say a word, but Hermione promptly pursed her lips together.

"Miss Granger," Albus cut in smoothly, "do you mean to say you've stolen the wand you used to Apparate here?"

"Yes," Hermione said without shame. "It was necessary."

"Ah, I see. Now that it has served its necessary purpose, perhaps you would allow me to find the rightful owner?" Albus' question was presented lightly, as though assault, battery and theft were daily dealings of his.

Hermione turned fully around from her seat on Harry's bed to stare at the headmaster. She opened her mouth to reply when Harry laid a hand on her arm. Hermione's eyes snapped back to him.

"We'll get you another," Harry said simply.

And without any additional fuss Hermione procured the stolen wand from within her sleeve and handed it to Dumbledore.

"The girl lives in Bloomsbury. She's attending university there."

"I will ensure the wand finds her," Dumbledore said. He addressed Harry. "Breakfast begins in four hours time. I'm sure you have things to say to Miss Granger before your parents return. I shall see you then."

Hermione waited until the Headmaster had left the infirmary before rounding on her friend. She held her hand out expectantly. Harry placed his own wand in her waiting palm. A few detection charms and a quick Muffliato later, Hermione nodded and handed the wand back.

"Satisfied?" Harry joked.

"They're not too cautious here, are they?" Hermione answer was serious.

"No. I've cast everything I think of," Harry said soberly. "No particular wards, no listening charms, no recording orbs. It's like they've never needed to spy on anyone in Hogwarts before."

"It was the same with the girl," Hermione said. "I was so sure she was a muggle. She didn't even think to reach for her own wand." Hermione shook her head. "What's this about your parents? They're alive here, aren't they?"

Harry nodded, his eyes staring a thousand yards away. "Sirius too. I even saw Molly and Arthur."

"Well. . ." Hermione said speculatively, "you seem to be taking it alright?"

"Want to see something even more surprising?" Harry's abrupt change of topic did not go unnoticed, but Hermione allowed him to take both her hands in his own. "Check behind that curtain."

She shot him a suspicious glance before slowly rising and drawing back the white sheet. Harry waited through a moment of absolute silence. For Hermione, there was no pause; time simply stopped.

"RON!" She sank to her knees and grabbed his hand, kissing his palm over and over. When Hermione turned back to Harry tears were streaming down her face.

"How?" she gasped.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Harry smiled at her. "But he'll be okay. He's just having a lie in. Lazy as always."

Hermione's laugh sounded more like a sob. Her eyes raked across Ron's bandaged body several times before she noticed Molly Weasley, slumped in a chair next to his bed. Harry laughed loudly when he realized what Hermione was staring at.

"Had to do it," he said, "she was driving me batty. Wouldn't stop going on about, 'Poor 'ickle Ronny.' I thought she might set herself on fire, what with those knitting needles moving fast enough to spark."

"So you stunned her?" Hermione's voice was disapproving. "Honestly, Harry, did you want to break any trust we might have with these people? What were you thinking?

"I was thinking she wouldn't sleep unless I put her out. And I didn't stun her, it was a mild compulsion charm," Harry said. "For sleeping only. She won't even realize I cast it." It was a second of silence before Harry said softly, "She never would have taken any rest. You know how she is."

Hermione nodded. Despite her back being to Harry, he could picture the tight line her lips would have formed by now. She didn't say anything, but Harry saw her shoulders rise and fall more rapidly. Hermione was crying again.

"Look, I promise I won't do anything else to them," he said. "Well, at least, I promise I won't do anything else unnecessarily."

"I suppose that's all I can ask for," Hermione said, wiping her eyes hastily on the sleeve of her jumper. "We should go over our strategy."

"So far they think we've come from the future," Harry said. "I'm not going to burst their bubble just yet. Gin is here, out looking for you actually, but Luna didn't make it. I don't know why. The dead are up and walking and talking and making it hard for me to think straight. I'm still tired from saving Ron and you look like death warmed over so I think planning can wait until we've had a bit of a life in ourselves."

"You can't simply choose not to think about all this Harry," Hermione's voice had grown disapproving again. "We need to have a plan. There are questions that need answers and we need to decide how to proceed and I think it's best if we-"

"No, no, no," Harry cut in. "Sleep, Hermione. Dumbledore is still here, watching over Hogwarts, which has not been overrun with Death Eaters, if you hadn't noticed. We're as safe as we can be here. Gin will hopefully be back tomorrow and you'll get your chance to talk to all our lovely ghosts so we'll actually get a few answers and figure out what we want to do. But until then, we rest and tell them as little as possible. Let's get a better understanding of this world before we try and sort ourselves."

"But-" Hermione started.

"Sleep now," Harry said. "That's an order."

And just like that the fight seemed to flow out of Hermione. She nodded back to Harry and rose. He levitated Ron, just a bit, to the side of the bed and watched Hermione climb in next to him, careful to mind his broken body. She was asleep almost instantly.

Harry smiled to himself as he levitated another blanket over the sleeping couple. It was going to be fantastic when Molly woke up.

ATN:

Sorry for the change in story summary, but I've made an adjustment to storyline that calls for an altered description. I hope you're all enjoying reading so far. Any constructive criticism or commentary is always welcome!


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